


Afterimage

by senisensei



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, M/M, Romance, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-29 04:36:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18218300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/senisensei/pseuds/senisensei
Summary: Ten million colours, six years, four portraits, and one story that will always decline to end. Chanyeol loved Kyungsoo, and always will, even if death do them part.





	1. Amaranth

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I'm reposting this for the third(?) time in my life. I want to continue it for sure this time, though slowly.  
> 2\. This shit hurts a lot for me while I write it (but I still do anyway lol) hope it hurts for you too, but in a lovely way.  
> 3\. Much love~ Please help me make a playlist for it? Pretty please? Tell me in the comments!

prologue

* * *

_An invisible red thread connects those who are fated to meet, regardless of time, place or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but it will never break._

As silly as it seems, Chanyeol believes in proverbs and wise wordings to help lift his spirits about certain aspects in life. He has always _believed_.

It was either a sickness, a bad habit or probably something he was born with twenty eight years ago, on the 27th of November; his mother had always described the day as perfect and delightful, the day when he was born. But the twenty seventh was a day where he mocks joy and continuously gives lifeless smiles, grins with feigned glee from the heart. It just seems that his system can't yield any gaiety that would, usually, always be there in him.

The act of blindly believing, in many things, was despicable. Believing was for fools, and yet he committed the act of believing- he never stopped. The tiny flame of hope never died, the spark not at all dulled. Everything around him acts as the fire that burns a small wooden splint in his center ever so brightly.

The remnants of the charcoal sediments on his fingertips, the roughness similar to sand beneath his bare feet. The friction-less surfaces imitating the feeling of skin on skin. The contrast of light and dark tones amplifying the piece. Kyungsoo's artistic talent was beyond unimaginable.

These things would make him believe. Little details we fail to take note of, specifics that don’t seem noticeable but matter the most. These made him hope.

As his heart remains frozen on the shorthand of the clock, his mind insists to run on the long hand. He lingers on the minuscule moments as they wrap him in reassurance. These bits being great fractions of his story in a book, his face in a painting.

Fate plays heart wrenching games on lovers, forcing opposites to attract like the poles of a magnet. The game is harsh and cruel, but Chanyeol remembers that he was the pencil and Kyungsoo was the paper.

He'd definitely see him again. The doe-like eyes, the heart shaped smile and the little ball of fluff named Do Kyungsoo.

The hoping, nevertheless, helps him reminisce. It was the 27th that day. It was the dampness of his tears, the cold warmth emitted from Kyungsoo's skin. The emotion reflected in his words, right before he left Chanyeol and entered what the latter couldn't accept.

This was the reason why Chanyeol's thoughts flew away with the wind like dandelions to a cyan mid-spring sky.

When Kyungsoo said to not worry, since he'd come back. But he never did, _but_ Chanyeol affirms that he would.

Kyungsoo had fallen asleep.

A slumber that they both knew had no end.

But the red string of fate will _never_ break, right?


	2. Auburn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chanyeol fails to see the light but captures the image. Whether in grayscale, sepia or full-colour, the image always ceases to fade. Kyungsoo declines to vanish from his thoughts, his memories, his life— his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just the start. I'm sorry in advance ;A;)/

Kyungsoo fancied stationery. Pens, miniature clips and neon post-its: these can make him happy on a Christmas morning. These things would symbolize Kyungsoo in Chanyeol's daily life. It would light up his spirits in an odd way and he'd find himself smiling.

But the vexation was also there.

The suffocation was far beyond great and his eyes would lose all its light, his fingers would be unable to move. His emotions would rid his lungs of air, wanting to terminate his breathing.

And it wasn't just the stationery that caused these kind of reactions to him. Of course, there were other things.

Unironed pinstriped shirts, the unmanageable hair gel that stuck to his fingers like glue, and the Calvin Klein eau de toilette for men. Chanyeol couldn't bear to see, touch or even think of these things.

It all had a huge constituent of Kyungsoo embedded in them, like a section in a book.

Suspenders weren't used for fashion in the old days; it was used by men too big and fat for typical belts. It held their huge bellies as they tuck their shirts in, making them look as equally smart as those who were physically fit. Chanyeol was definitely in shape, but he liked wearing suspenders.

The difficulty of clipping the suspenders to his pants' belt line frustrated him. It was hard to reach back again and again, miss all over again, until he'd give up and take a five minute break from standing in front of the mirror trying to see whatever was behind his body so he could wear the desired accessory properly. Nevertheless, he would spend hours attempting to clip it on his belt, looking like a puppy chasing its tail as it went on circles continuously.

This was definitely Kyungsoo's influence. All the washed jeans, the bleached shirts, the canvass shoes- it was all him. It's like a part of Kyungsoo was living, still.

A part of him was  _ still _ with Chanyeol.

It doesn't quite stop there.

Satin indigo bed sheets, white cotton curtains with relatively thin silver linings and a cr è me coloured lamp shade that barely lit up a small corner of his room.

Chanyeol loved that about his room. When the sunlight would dance on the floor as the curtains billowed softly, illuminating the room in parts. When he'd go to sleep and the sheets would engulf him in snugness. It was really nice.

It would be nicer if Kyungsoo was there, though.

There'd also be the endless rows of pocketbooks, all sorted alphabetically. The untouched light green mug on the coffee table by the terrace that overlooked the streets. The stolen hotel slippers that still looked brand new and comfy.

It just screams deafeningly to his ears, " _ Kyungsoo _ ".

Chanyeol was tired. He was weary of noticing everything, remembering everything. He's fed up with all the mixed emotions, the non-stop misery and the smiles. What's most painful was the smiling.

He lives everyday, every hour, every minute and second pretending. It was exhausting to pretend that it  _ was  _ okay, Kyungsoo said we'll see each other again.

How arduous it is, to believe in that.

To even muse on it was completely grueling, making everything around him a challenge as they acted as objects that gave him a way to see through the past, to travel back in time and cherish the sans pareil moments. 

If only all of it would disappear like foam. If only fate would allow and would think that being with Kyungsoo till death was right. If only his eyes that lost its luminescence would cease and stop crying.

It was hard to forget, but what if he  _ didn't _ want to forget at all?


	3. Burgundy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is like a story. Each day is like a chapter. Each year is like a part. But like every book, each story is different. Not all books have happily ever afters, do they?

He stirs momentarily and inhales the vague scent of cologne and lavenders. Knotted navy blue cardigans tangle with his legs as he continues to wake. He intakes the aroma once again before turning his back to the window letting light seep in the room and hit the bed. Chanyeol shifts and cuddles to the pillow on his right, reaching out his hand in a manner to embrace someone- but he never met the touch he longed for. 

In lieu, his hand falls on the empty side of the bed, his fingers spread and his arm outstretched. He waited for something, anything to land on his palm; anything to fill in the spaces in between his fingers; any warmth, a small touch but there was nothing. There was just nothing left for him to hold on to.

He had tried filling the empty space, replacing the missing piece with a brand new one. But he failed to give all his effort in doing so, because he knew in his centre that it wasn't right. He _ wasn't  _ meant for others.

Chanyeol was the keyhole, and Kyungsoo acted as the key. No matter how other keys tried to twist, turn and jerk the lock open, the door would never go ajar and let them in. Kyungsoo was the only one with the right twists and turns, the only one who fitted almost too perfectly inside the keyhole.

He was the only one who was able to crack the code, answer the one million dollar question and solve the problem right. Kyungsoo with his weird jokes, his polka-dotted button-ups and his twenty four set shading pencils that had about three pencils of the same shade.

No matter how much Chanyeol tried replacing Kyungsoo, the thought itself made him feel like clawing his heart out.  _ No, no, it wasn't meant to be like this _ , he would tell himself. Kyungsoo was, no matter what, the only fragment that could bring the shattered mirror back to its utter perfection.

And when mirrors break, there'd still be cracks and imperfections visible- but with Kyungsoo it was faultless. The mirror would regain its lustre and its brilliance, giving off the most priceless reflections one would adore to look at.

Kyungsoo was his linchpin. He held him together, like a binder that compiled paper. When the linchpin disappears, Chanyeol would scatter like ash dancing in the air.

He was Chanyeol's living diary; every moment, both special and not, was spent with Kyungsoo and shared with him.

But now the door's lock doesn't latch off and open anymore. The mirror only gave horrid and uneven reflections one wouldn't bare to see. The linchpin was gone, forever.

The pages of the living diary hadn't ran out yet, but it was all gone. In one little moment in time.

Chanyeol's heart was already burnt down to ashes that danced with the wind as it blew.

How he wished they'd be dandelions soaring away to the clouds instead.


	4. Cattleya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chanyeol tells Kyungsoo what's his favourite colour is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a wee bit longer than the previous ones and is a little lighter compared to those too!

Kyungsoo was an artist. He really didn't know why he liked art, maybe because of the aesthetic, maybe because of the magnificence, or maybe because of the colours. There was something about colours that sparked up his interest and gave a certain glint in his eyes. Maybe because that's what he needed most- life.

He liked dwelling on the wrong things, the negatives and the not-good-enough things. It was all for the best, he would say, to make things perfect. But it wasn't supposed to be that way. It was always like looking at the farther page of the book from the current page you were reading- it was looking ahead to make sure nothing went wrong. It was like getting ahead of wasn't meant for you, he had always lived by that principle.  

It wasn't wrong, in his eyes. It was for assurance, because assurance is the key to satisfaction and satisfaction is the way to happiness. It means more smiles and less fears, to him. Of course it takes time to convert black and white films to coloured ones, Kyungsoo knew, so he waited. And he waited long.

There was a fact that once, he was a pushover. And twice, he was a victim to bullying. Thrice, a coward. And four times a fool. What strength does he have as a man? He was all oblivious to it. His strength as a person? Easily wavered, easily damaged. But his strength as a friend and as a son? It was rigid and firm, like a strong barrier - it was as strong as the barrier he built around his heart.

He was never good with heart to heart talks and was very socially awkward. Kyungsoo doesn't voice out his feelings well, and he believes he'll never be able to. He was never confident about what he thinks and what he wants to think, it was all about living up to other people's standards and expectations, being accepted by society. He doesn't do things for his own happiness, except for one thing that he has realised. It was art.

Maybe that was also a reason, why he has taken a liking to painting and sketching. It was a way to vent out, a way to speak loudly through pictures. It was an image of feelings, emotions intact with each and every stroke of his brush, each and every line drawn. At first it was only art, but then a new streetlight came to illuminate the dark alleys in the streets deep within him, Chanyeol.

Meeting him was, Kyungsoo had mused, the closest he could get to touching the clouds. It was a little absurd that someone like him would like someone like Chanyeol. Opposites attract, they had said, but it was just a coincidence. And they said there was only the inevitable. No matter how many times Kyungsoo had tried assessing it, when he comes up with a negative thought on his developing friendship with Chanyeol, a new, more happy one comes crashing in with a basket of pretty flower petals, humming a nice tune. 

It would skip its way to one corner of his mind and settle there, silently and slowly brightening up everything until he decides that yes, Chanyeol and I may be different, but we were meant to meet. This was destiny.

He tried to keep it subtle, his feelings. He wanted to show that his firmness cannot be faltered, that he could stand on his own and walk all by himself. But as he continued, he would wobble from stepping on small pebbles that seemed to hurt more than what they looked like. It was like an explanation to him, don't ever judge something by what it seems like, you have to know it better first.

Then it struck him, that he just looked strong. He just looked firm and collected. He was actually falling already, deep into the well, swallowed by the darkness. That what if, he wasn't the only one who was falling to misery, maybe Chanyeol was the same too.

That's when Chanyeol had said it, " _ I'll only stop loving you when you learn to love yourself. _ " When Kyungsoo came to the truth that he was the one halting his growth. He was slowing down the processing of black and white to full-colour. That he kept on stepping on the pebbles to avoid taking long strides across the path. It was just him, and Chanyeol was helping him realise that.

Thankful was definitely the right word. The word he'd say in his prayers every night before he would feel Chanyeol's arms hug him tight. He was thankful for him and his existence in his life. That he was his knight in shining armour. The cheerful Prince Charming to his lonely Cinderella self. They were in a complete balance, like the Yin and the Yang. It was undoubtedly meant to happen.

So now he stood tall, and walked on his own with Chanyeol holding his hand. He was able to erase the worries and replace them with happy thoughts instead. His paintings were slowly becoming images filled with nothing but brightness and light feelings.

Chanyeol found himself smiling as he read the expression on Kyungsoo's face. It made his heart stop then beat again, it was a never ending, continuous pattern his heart starts following when he'd glance at Kyungsoo. He completed him, and he was more than glad that he completes Kyungsoo too. There would be brief moments where Kyungsoo would stop working and would just stare at him for a good two to three minutes and continue to work again. 

Chanyeol loved those times, when he distracts him just by sitting and watching.

It was more fun though, when he would annoy him and ask him all these mind boggling questions or things that don't really make sense. He had one favourite though, the question about colours.

 

_ 'What do colours do, Kyungsoo?' _

_ Kyungsoo dipped the tip of the brush on the pretty magenta colour, dabbing it gently on his canvas, 'They give things meaning, and I think, life.' _

_ A smile tempted to play on his lips as he tilted his head and watched the other, Chanyeol sighed. 'I have one most liked colour then.’ _

_ 'Which one?' _

_ Chanyeol grinned, ‘You.’ _

 

He liked it because it will never be far from true. If he could promise one thing and write it on a padlock and throw the key to the seas so it never gets unlocked, it would be to only look at and see Kyungsoo. Keep him and never let him go unless he tells you to. That was his kind of love for him. His kind of love wasn't the kind that was full of passionate make out sessions or random spooning  on kitchen counters and living room couches. His kind of love was expressed through split-second glances, alien winks, late night ramyeon snacking and matching fluffy bunny slippers. 

It was about buying him a new set of pastel colours and A3 sized sketchbooks. It was about taking him to the nearest convenience store to  buy milk in cartons and strawberry flavoured jelly beans. It wasn't expensive nor cheap, it was just - alright. Everything about their love was alright. 

That was why Kyungsoo was always more than delighted to build bed sheet forts in the living room beside Chanyeol's tall lamp shade instead of going to fancy hotels. He had liked it more when he eats noodles on the cover of the pot instead of some high class china. He enjoyed listening to Chanyeol's one-man-band performances than going to crowded live concerts. It was only for one reason-  _ Chanyeol _ .  As long as he was there, everything's alright.

It was the same for Chanyeol: he had always enjoyed listening to Kyungsoo's hiccups than going to bars and getting drunk late at night. It was always better to wear Kyungsoo's hand-knitted scarves and self-designed beanies than to buy the fashionable, trendy ones.  He was better off watching Kyungsoo paint and make faces as he was in his own little world than to watch some television show that could make him laugh. Kyungsoo's existence filled his happiness to its brim, he doesn't need a show or a book to make him smile anymore.

Like this, their love grew. They cuddled longer, kissed sweeter and held each other's hand tighter. The small bud had grown into a majestic flower, something truly one of a kind. It was always fun, it was always heartwarming.

Chanyeol felt like he was flying.

But then he soon came to know that he had no wings, so  _ he fell _ .

He fell fast, and didn't land very well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you guys notice the colour trend? What colour do you think is next >< I personally love this story so much, it's so sad but pretty in my head, I hope I do it justice in writing.

**Author's Note:**

> (Tell me your thoughts and violent reactions! Twitter/CuriousCat: @49cmsehun)


End file.
